130 Prompts: Green Street Hooligans
by Little Miss Bovver
Summary: A selection of different fics for GSH which i wrote for 130 prompts on livejournal. See Author's note inside. Rated M just in case
1. When i grow up

**Hello! These fics were written for 130prompts on Livejournal, but i'm doing a variation of CSI, Torchwood, GSH and Band of Brothers, so there won't be 130 fics just in this file xD Please review and tell me what you think!**

**Title: **When I grow up…  
**Fandom: **Green Street Hooligans  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Dave, OC,  
**Prompt:** 025: Children  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own GSH, or any of the characters (except Grandad, of course!)  
**A/N:** None

When I grow up…

Dave hadn't wanted to be a footballer or a magician or an astronaut like all the other boys his age. No; in primary school he'd had his heart set on being a frog.

He'd had this ambition ever since seeing them in the pond in his council flat back garden when he was six. Its head had popped above the water, blinking at him. Then, with a 'blop' it had disappeared, leaving ripples to spread on the surface.

'I'm going to be a frog,' he'd happily announced at the dinner table. His mum flashed him a look of disapproval, while his Uncle Gary rubbed his mop of black hair playfully.

His dad said nothing.

Then, high school came and it was here when Dave realized it wasn't that cool to want to grow up and be a frog.

It was also when he started high school where he really got into football. West Ham became his favourite team ever and that's when he decided he wanted to be a footballer.

When his dad left and Uncle Gary turned to drugs, it was just him and mum. 'David, we need to move again,' she sighed, sat at the dinner table.

Dave stared back at her with a frown. 'Why?'

'I don't 'ave enough money for the rent.'

'I'll get a job. I'll help pay the bills.'

'How?' she scoffed. 'By becoming a footballer and earning millions a year?' Dave felt his heart drop and he sighed. He hated it, but knew she was right.

Unable to pay the rent, the two moved into Grandad's house. He was a tall man, with wrinkles around the eyes and a hunch in his back. He owned a collie called Sam and always had a pipe stuck in his mouth.

'This is your room, son,' Grandad said, pushing open the door to the attic bedroom. Dave stepped in, dumping his case on the small, wiry bed. 'Your mum will be downstairs if you need her.' Dave nodded and waited until Grandad had left before moving to the window.

He hadn't even been here five minutes and he already hated it.

But, as the months passed, Dave grew to love the place. His room was actually his own; no sharing it with Uncle Gary or drunken guests of his dad's. No one went up here except for him, which proved out good when he started getting into girls.

Until, one day, there was a knock on his bedroom door. 'Yeah?' he called, looking up from the magazine he was reading.

'Just me, son,' smiled Grandad, voice rough from years of smoking. 'I 'ave a surprise for you.'

'Where?'

'We're going on a trip.'

'With mum?' Dave frowned.

'No, son. Just you and me.' Dave continued to frown as Grandad pulled two tickets out of his pocket. 'Happy Birthday, Dave.'

The teenager raised his eyebrows in surprise; he hadn't really celebrated his birthday in years. Mum never had enough money with all the rent to pay. Dave climbed to his feet, reaching out to take the tickets. 'Air show?' he laughed.

'It'll be fun. I've made up a picnic, but we 'ave to go now if you wanna get there in time.' Dave grinned, grabbing a jacket and slinging it on; tugging his trainers onto socked feet.

The drive took about an hour, but it passed quickly as they listened to music on the radio. It was all the old tracks that Grandad used to listen to on cassette, but Dave didn't mind. He quite enjoyed it actually.

The air show wasn't what Dave expected it to be. They passed through crowds; stalls upon stalls filled the airfield. Planes flew overhead, rumbling in Dave's chest like nothing he'd never imagined. He watched a large plane glide almost peacefully overhead. 'What plane's that?' he asked.

'That's a Vulcan,' his Grandad replied, grey eyes never leaving the sky.

'And those?' Dave asked, pointing.

'Spitfires,' he called over the noise. 'I flew one of them.'

'You flew a Spitfire?'

'Yeah; back in the days. I've seen a lot of things, David. And I've done a few things in my life which I regret.'

'Like what?' he frowned. Grandad chuckled, looking down at his grandson.

'Another time, okay? Here come the fighter jets.' Dave looked up as the jets zoomed at incredible speeds across the skies, sending the now familiar rumble through his chest, making his heart beat accelerate.

'You know what, Grandad,' he said over the noise.

'Go on.'

'When I grow up, I'm going to be a pilot.'

Grandad just chuckled and ruffled his hair.

##


	2. Days of our lives

**Title: **Days of our lives  
**Fandom: **Green Street Hooligans  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Bov, Dave, Swill, Ike, Ned, Keith, OC,  
**Prompt:** 116: all my fault  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Character death, spoiler for end of film  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own GSH, or any of the characters. Lyrics by Queen.  
**A/N:** Set at the end of GSH. Big spoiler if you haven't watched the movie. (You best go and watch it now, if you haven't!) Also, this fic is dedicated to Katherine, for giving me the idea! Thanks!

Days of our lives

_Sometimes I get to feelin'  
I was back in the old days - long ago  
When we were kids, when we were young  
Things seemed so perfect - you know?  
The days were endless, we were crazy - we were young  
The sun was always shinin' - we just lived for fun  
Sometimes it seems like lately - I just don't know  
The rest of my life's been - just a show._

_._

_Sometimes I get to feelin'  
I was back in the old days - long ago  
When we were kids, when we were young  
Things seemed so perfect - you know?  
The days were endless, we were crazy - we were young  
The sun was always shinin' - we just lived for fun _

The church organs played low music, but it was faded in the background. No one was paying attention. All eyes, red raw with tears, were on the coffin. The Beechwood was smooth and glossy and covered with roses.

A single word was engraved on the silver plate. _Pete_.

Steve was sat on the front pew, looking worse for wear. He had his arm wrapped around his mum; a graying woman, who was sobbing into the chest of her eldest and only son.

Swill sat at the far end. He was leaning forward, head in hands, body rocking as he cried. Beneath his fingers, you could make out the red, angry scar that was etched into his cheek from the fight.

Dave was beside him, silent and distant. One hand was clenched in a fist on his lap, the other moving to take one of Swill's. The younger man squeezed it and gave a growl of frustration.

Ike, Ned and Keith were sat behind them. Their faces were bruised, stitches sealing up facial injuries. Nothing too major.

Bov sat alone right at the back, away from the others. Away from the many people that had come to Pete's funeral. People Bov did not know.

People Bov did not care about; didn't even think about them, because to him, they were not there. Nor was Dave, or Swill, or Ned, Ike and Keith.

All he could think about was the fight; Pete laying on the ground, still. Blood coating his face, making rivers down his cheeks, dripping slowly onto the sand below.

Dead weight.

'Pete… Pete was a good boy.' A woman's voice broke his thoughts. Bov looked up to see Mrs Dunham stood by the coffin, looking out at the group of silent mourners sat in the pews.

Tears were running down her cheeks, but she ploughed on nonetheless.

'Pete… always 'ad that cheeky grin on his face. He was always excited and enthusatic about one thing or another; whever it was football or teaching. Pete could get a little full of himself sometimes,' she forced a small laugh. 'It would get him into trouble, but it was easy to be twisted around his little finger.'

_Sometimes it seems like lately - I just don't know  
The rest of my life's been - just a show._

_Those were the days of our lives  
The bad things in life were so few  
Those days are all gone now but one thing is true -  
When I look and I find I still love you._

.

_You can't turn back the clock, you can't turn back the tide  
Ain't that a shame?  
I'd like to go back one time on a roller coaster ride  
When life was just a game  
No use sitting and thinkin' on what you did  
When you can lay back and enjoy it through your kids  
Sometimes it seems like lately I just don't know  
Better sit back and go - with the flow_

Swill was still sobbing, but he had looked up now; teeth clenched, cheeks wet. His hand was still clenched in Dave's.

Dave was on the verge of tears. Then, he looked back at Bov.

Bov got slowly to his feet. The cop at his side shifted so he could get past and then he made his way down to the front.

He cleared his throat, before brushing away tears he didn't realise were there.

'Pete was my best mate and it's my fault he's there,' Bov said simply, voice hoarse. 'I don't deserve to be 'ere. If I 'adn't… if the Yank wasn't…' His jaw trembled and Bov squeezed his eyes shut. 'I'm sorry, bruv. I'm so fuckin' sorry.'

_Cos these are the days of our lives  
They've flown in the swiftness of time  
These days are all gone now but some things remain  
When I look and I find - no change_

_._

_  
Those were the days of our lives yeah  
The bad things in life were so few  
Those days are all gone now but one thing's still true  
When I look and I find, I still love you,  
I still love you._


	3. The smile is just the start

**Title: **The smile is just the start  
**Fandom: **Green Street Hooligans  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Swill, Dave, Pete, Bov  
**Prompt:** 014: smile and 037: eyes  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own Green Street Hooligans, or any of the actors.  
**A/N:** Do you know how hard it is to write when there are little retarded year seven's that keep creeping up on you? Little twattie bastards! They keep shoving into me when I'm trying to write angry!Bov.  
Lyrics by Kelly Clarkson 'Sober'. Written for 130 prompts.

The smile is just the start  
"_I could crash and burn but maybe at the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me."_

Swill had the brightest smile.

The huge childlike beam that made everyone grin and smile in return. His baby blue eyes would glitter mischievously, like an infant hiding a secret about dragons and princesses and knights in faraway lands.

Dave would titter. Flutter a little and tell Swill to stop being such a twat and buy him a drink. His brown eyes would cast almost despairingly over Swill's face, but the corners of his lips would twitch. Then, he'd laugh and punch Swill's arm and the younger man would bounce off to the bar for rounds.  
Pete had a slow smile. One that started as a smirk, before it became a grin, laugh bubbling from between rose petal lips. He had a gait walk, a swagger, the step of a man who knew no fear, unless it came from those hell-bent with revenge.

Pete's eyes were only dark blue when they were angry. Any other time, they'd be sparkling light blue orbs with the devil in them. He'd watch his friends tussle and joke ahead, with an almost fond fatherly expression; his boys. He'd been with them through everything, him having their backs and them having his. He trusted each and every one of them with his life ten times over and back again.

He'd laugh with them and joke, fight and scrap and dance in the victory of another good win. Running a hand through cropped blond hair, he swigged his beer and it sloshed down his chin.

Bovver could be moody. He rarely smiled; the movement of his lips of usually a twisted smirk, or a pull of his lips turning downwards. It wasn't that he was unhappy. He just had no reason to smile.

Bov's eyes were always dark and angry; a navy blue that seemed only light if West Ham won or they got through a good fight. He took a deep drag of his cigarette from pouted lips, cast a scowl in the direction of the floor and exhaled the smoke through his nose. He watched Swill; always so happy and energetic. He gave a soft, mocking laugh and turned away. He met Pete's gaze and for a fleeting moment, everything was okay.

Because Pete was his best friend and he wouldn't let anything happen to him.


	4. Dave and Swill in a sandpit

**Title: **The Story of Dave and Swill in a sandpit.  
**Fandom: **Green Street Hooligans  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Dave, Swill  
**Prompt:** 101: Act Your Age  
**Rating: **M for the C-word  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own GSH, or any of the characters  
**A/N:** There is really no point of this fic XD Seriously, there isn't!

The Story of Dave and Swill

In a sandpit.

'Oi.'

'What?'

'Gimmie that.'

'What?'

'Gimmie that!' demanded Swill, pouting and pointing at the red spade in Dave Biano's hand. Dave looked down at it, before clutching it to his chest protectively.

'No!'

'Gimmie it.'

'No!'

'Yeah!'

'Fuck off.'

Swill pouted, big blue eyes wide. 'Please!' he begged, holding out a hand. He glanced at the boy next to him. 'Make him give it me!'

'You can't bring a kid into this,' Dave said. 'I'm keeping the spade and that's final!'

'Bitch,' Swill muttered.

'The children, Simon!'

--

(14:27 Swill's milkshake brings all the mums to the yard says: ) Whazzup?

(14:28 D Biano says: ) I'm at work, you?

(14:28 Swill's milkshake brings all the mums to the yard says: ) Just playin wit this nice red spade I found in your back garden : )

(14:29 D Biano says: ) Did you sneak into my garden!?

(14:30 D Biano says: ) Swill?

(14:31 D Biano says: ) SIMON?

_Swill's milkshake brings all the mums to the yard is offline._

(14.31 D Biano says: ) Cunt.


End file.
